I Won't say goodbye
by Honniing
Summary: One-shot about Sasuke. People have always envied Sasuke, and so the call him things when they think he doesn't hear them. The things he's been called has affected him deeply, and he ended up struggling with depression. Finally one day he snaps...


**So, a very spontaneous little thing, i will even go as far as to say it is **_**slightly **_**based on my own life, isn't that lovely? No? No. Well, I have my own issues, Sasuke has his…**

**Well it isn't the happiest one-shot you can find out there.**

**So, I want to send out a message with this fic! I'll go more into detail in the author note at the end, so yeah, I hope you enjoy!**

-x-

I look at the person standing in front of me. He is looking straight back at me with his deep black onyx eyes. His eyes are surrounded by long black lashes that caress his cheeks when he closes his eyes. His gaze is empty.

_Ugly…_

I move my gaze down, looking at that small straight nose, and those soft-looking lips. His face is passive, and at first it doesn't seem as if he is showing any emotion. I study his features. Upon closer inspection I notice the slight twitch in the muscles beneath his eyes, and the slight tightening in his lips. He must be trying his best to hide his emotions…

_Emo…_

His face is framed by thick raven black hair that sticks in every direction. His hair looks messy, but that's the way it's supposed to be. Many would trade their hair with him; his is soft and shiny, and easy to fix the way he wanted it to be, unlike many others' unruly mop of uncontrollable hair.

_Fake…_

My gaze travels further down to his naked body. He is thin, _too_ thin; one would think he wasn't eating enough. I know that he is eating just as much as anybody else, but others seem to overlook this detail. People envy him; they envy him so much they would kill to have his metabolism.

_Anorectic…_

Something red catches my eye, and my gaze is drawn toward his arm. His arm is adorned by numerous scars and wounds. The freshest wound cuts deep into his flesh and blood is still trickling down his arm. I see the knife hanging loosely from his hand, and shiver slightly. The wound is self-inflicted.

I wrack my brain to think of a reason why he would do such a thing, why he would permanently scar his perfect body. Is he bullied? No. quite the contrary in fact, he is the most popular guy in the school he goes to. He is quiet, but his money and good looks is enough to have all the girls, and even some of the boys swooning around him.

_Spoiled…_

I look at his face again, only to see him studying me just as intently as I am studying him. He seems to be at the limit of his self-control, because tears are streaming freely down his face now. I look into his eyes, and am met with deep, deep sorrow. So that's what's hiding behind the empty look.

I want to reach out to him, to hug him, and to tell him everything is gonna be ok. I move my right arm forward, towards him without looking at it, my eyes still locked on his. I absentmindedly notice something cold in my hand, so I drop it. The distant _"thumb" _that rings through the room as I drop whatever I was holding, is ignored by us both.

From the corner of my eye I see him move his right arm as well, meeting mine halfway. I press my palm to his and shiver. He is so cold.

I blink once, and my gaze becomes blurry. I reluctantly pull my hand away from his hand and move it to my face. My cheeks are wet. It seems I'm crying as well. I rub the tears out of my eyes, and slowly drop my hand to my side again.

"Why did they call you ugly, when they all think your eyes are perfect?" I ask him. My voice comes out as a whisper, and I wonder if he heard me.

"Why did they call you emo just because you hid your feelings from them… just because you didn't want to involve them in your problems…?" I'm afraid to break the atmosphere, the mysterious little bubble I exist in right now. The only things I am aware of are myself and him.

"Why did they call you fake, when you never even use hair gel to fix your hair?" My sight is blurring, but I don't care, the damn tears can leave my eyes for as long as they want, maybe I'll be rid of them for good then.

"Why did they call you anorectic, when one of your main priorities every single day is to eat, and to eat enough?" My voice is getting harder to control for every word I utter, and I want nothing more than to just break down, and sob and cry, and I'm not even sure why.

"Why did they call you spoiled, when your own brother killed your parents to get their fortune? Even if he was caught they didn't come back to life, and all the money was passed on to you. Is that the same as being spoiled?" It has become too difficult to whisper, so my voice has risen in volume, but I don't care. I know he can hear me now, but he doesn't answer.

I don't expect an answer either.

"Why, do people judge others without knowing them? Why do people say such things behind my back? What did I ever do wrong?" I yell at the boy in front of me.

I sink defeated to my knees, and look into his eyes.

I smile bitterly at him, receiving a smile in return.

Of course, the only one I ever could trust was him.

The only one I ever could trust was my reflection.

The only one I ever could trust was _me._

"Let's go, to somewhere nice." I say to the mirror-boy in front of me.

I reach for the knife I had dropped earlier and hold it against my wrist. I look up into the mirror, into my own onyx eyes.

The sorrow and emptiness from before is gone, all that is left is determination.

I draw a deep breath, and then I push the sharp blade into by wrist. I cut deep, until my hand begin going numb. I change the blade to my other hand, and before I lose all feeling in my cut hand I drive the blade into my other wrist.

I sigh as the world around me begins to blur. I feel so proud. I didn't make a sound, save from a sharp intake of breath as the cold steel of the knife had penetrated my skin; I had shown no weakness in my last moments.

My last thought before I faded into oblivion was; _I won't say goodbye, the world doesn't deserve it…_

-x-

**So yeah, I think you get what I want to portray here… I really, really, despise people who judge others and call them things behind their back… **

**Also the ending open in a way, since, you know, he could be saved and taken to a hospital for all we know, and live miserably ever after, or he could find love and be saved, or he could die. So I leave it to your imagination to think out what happened to Sasuke here.**

**SO! If you think about it this could act as a prologue, or a one-shot. I already have quite a lot on my plate with the fics I've got going on atm, but if you wish to see this one continued then please do tell me, I might consider it, but it will stay a one-shot till at least after Christmas sometime.**


End file.
